Cycle of Blooming
by ChibiKanakoNyu
Summary: Well begun is half done. Plant the seeds well, and with care, beautiful blossoms will be your reward. It is truly astounding what magic can grow out of a single, small seed. All that can start with a mere sound, a smile, a precious memory. A love letter. Yaoi, modern day AU, will contain M rated material later on. This fanfiction is dedicated to the lovely Gilje, with all my love.
1. Chasing the Spring Breeze

**Chapter 1**

**Chasing the Spring Breeze**

.oOoOo.

Sanji enjoyed going to school. True, he found it a shame that he couldn't loiter around in his uncle Zeff's kitchen instead to learn cooking, but all in all, the elementary school he would be finishing in three years had many things for him in store.

On an average day, aside from having to sit through his classes, he still had things he could look forward to. Most of his teachers liked him and he generally enjoyed the lessons, so he didn't have to worry about grades all that much. He had quite a few friends in his class he could hang out with, as well as a handful of little ladies he could practice his self-proclaimed charms on. Well, not _always_ with huge success, but practice is key, right? And the karate club he attended after classes was awesome, to boot.

Also, there was a very special something making his days brighter: a little secret he had all to himself. It was waiting for him every few days, when he opened his shoe locker in the morning. Ever since the school year started, sometimes he would find a little envelope sitting on top of his indoor shoes. Each of them had his name written on it, with a little spiral next to the katakana in the corner, resembling the curly eyebrows he had. There was no one else in the school called Sanji, but that little curved line still made the address seem something special to the blond boy.

As he opened the envelope and the small letter inside, he would usually be greeted by the words "_Dear Sanji-kun_". Though in more recent ones, he would read "_Dear Mayuge-kun_" instead. He at first frowned upon the change in addressing, but he got to like that name a lot more when he once found the following words underneath it: "_I think your eyebrows are cute. I like them a lot._" The girl, Sanji thought, had nice handwriting, but she probably must have felt embarrassed, since she sometimes crossed out a symbol she accidentally failed at. The letter would say modest and sweet things like, "_The onigiri at lunch was really delicious. I hope you got to try one yesterday_," or "_There were a lot of nice pictures in art class, but I liked yours the best"_, which made the aspiring little cook think that the "sender" must have been a shy young lady.

But he could only guess who she could have been, for the person who sneaked these small love letters into his locker had never left her name at the end, not even the first letter. There was sometimes a sticker or a stamp of cartoon figures in its stead, though. Maybe the girl thought it to be impolite to leave the good-bye space empty? That thought filled Sanji with delight, and he often squeezed the letter to his chest, happy that he had such a refined little lady sending him sweet messages.

Each lucky day he got his hands on a new little letter, he would be beaming all through the day with a big smile on his face. However, if his friends asked him what he was all smiles about, he wouldn't tell them his secret. "I saw something nice this morning," he would only answer, and he didn't care about the others frowning at him for it.

Because he, Kuroashi Sanji, nine years old, had a secret admirer.

.oOoOo.

There was no one who could ruin Sanji's mood if he had found another message in the morning. Except for maybe one person. A person with spiky green hair, a loud mouth, a bad attitude and closely linked with said attitude, also at least one band aid on him somewhere. Roronoa Zoro was his name and kendo was his game. Thank goodness for that, since Sanji was sure he would have gone crazy if that guy would have been in the karate club with him, too, aside from being his newest classmate. Zoro had only been in this school for one year, since 3rd grade, but he had already earned Sanji's trust – trust that he would spoil the rest of the day with just one comment of his.

And there the idiot was, trying to steal _his_ ball at P.E. But the damn grasshead was very wrong if he thought Sanji would let him...

"Oi, let go! That's my ball!"

"It's not yours! Your name isn't on it!" Zoro retorted, and tried to extend his hand with the ball so Sanji wouldn't reach it.

"But I always have this ball! I recognize it!" The blond, however, didn't falter, and with much fidgeting and chasing, he had gotten a good grip on the desired toy.

"No, you don't, that's stupid!" The green-hair stuck out his tongue and wouldn't let go of the ball, so the both of them commenced in trying to pull it towards themselves with all of the strength their little hands could muster.

"_You're_ stupid! Give it back, mossface!"

"Dork!"

"Plant head!"

"Mayuge!"

Mayuge, he said? _How dare he!_ That was the precious nickname that pretty young lady gave him in her letters! Nobody else was allowed to call him that, especially not that green monkey!

Sanji growled, and he was positive he must have looked really scary, for Zoro had an expression of shock written over his features for a moment. And in that very moment, the blond boy shoved him, and almost made him stumble.

"Don't call me that, you stupid Marimo!"

"And you don't call me a..." Zoro started to yell and shove back, but then he stopped and frowned at Sanji. "What's a marimo?"

"You don't even know what a marimo is?" Sanji raised one of his curly eyebrows at him incredulously, but he didn't really feel like explaining anything to the other boy. He much rather wanted to get the darned ball already, so he tried to pull it out of Zoro's hands again. "You really are stupid! That moss on your head ate your brains! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

For a while more, Sanji tried to nudge, to tear, to twist the rubber object out of Zoro's hands. But then, as he took a bigger momentum to grab and pull it towards himself, the green haired boy simply let go of it, making Sanji fall onto his butt on the ground.

"Ow! What did you do that for? Stupid Marimo!" Sanji exclaimed and glared up at Zoro, who was showing him a strange kind of expression. The green-head still looked just as angry as he did a few seconds ago when they were fighting over the ball. Though somehow, Sanji found that the boy standing before him also seemed almost... hurt?

"You can have it," Zoro mumbled, clenching his little fists, and in the next minute, he leaped to the basket with balls, and picked out a new one for himself. He was just about to run off to the other corner of the gym ground, but after two steps, he turned back to shoot the blond an angry look.

"Stupid Mayuge!" He stuck out his tongue and pulled at the skin under his eyes, and then he dashed off.

Sanji was left sitting there, dumbfounded by the way Zoro acted. Though as the teacher came his way, he stood up again, dusting off his aching bottom a little. He patted the ball in his hands which he victoriously claimed as his own again, and the started to bounce it on the floor, thinking a little about what a strange and stupid guy Zoro was.

.oOoOo.

The next day, Sanji's indoor shoes sat lonely in his locker. Just like the day after, and the day after that, and after that one, too. As more time passed and there was still no love letter waiting for him, Sanji became more and more disappointed. Why weren't there anymore letters from his secret admirer? Was she home sick? Or even worse: did he do something to make that little lady hate him? That thought was rather painful for him to think about, even more than he thought it was as the days came and went.

Those little envelopes he usually found used to be just another thing he could wait for on an average school day, but Sanji had to realize that by then, those short messages he received had grown to be more important to him than all the fun things in school. He didn't feel like playing with his friends too much, he became to anxious around his girl classmates and he dazed off during classes, too. He didn't even feel like picking a fight with that stupid Zoro, either, no matter what the mosshead said or did. And in each break, he could hardly wait to get out of the classroom, so he could run straight to his locker, somewhere inside hoping that there would be a sweet message waiting for him there. However, no matter how many times a day he opened that small door, there was no envelope there for him, just the emptiness of his outdoor shoes staring back at him.

Days went by in this manner for a little over a week, and the usually so lively blond didn't even smile anymore. Not until one Monday morning, when he went to fetch his shoes, there was one of those little envelopes inside, almost as if smiling at him with its flap. Sanji laughed out loud with joy as he saw it, and he hugged it to his little chest even before he read what was inside. And those lines in the short little letter made his young heart pound happily in his chest.

"_Dear Sanji-kun,_

_Please don't look so sad. A smile fits you much better."_

His day had been made. He didn't care if they were writing a Maths test, or if there wasn't any more seafood pasta in the canteen that day. He only needed to read that letter again, and he was instantly smiling wide.

He could barely believe it; his mysterious admirer still liked him.

.oOoOo.

One or two days have gone by, and the little love-messages kept secretly wandering into Sanji's shoe locker. The little cook-to-be was pleased with reading them one after the other, just delving in happiness after that pause in letters. But very soon, he had grown more and more curious about who that nice little lady could have been. He basically didn't know anything about her, except for what her handwriting looked like, and what cartoons she seemed to enjoy.

However, that wasn't the whole truth. Sanji could also notice that his admirer must have been an early bird: when school was out and he switched for his outdoor shoes, there was never a letter in his locker yet, but on lucky mornings, there was one waiting for him there just when he arrived. And so, Sanji thought up a plan. He decided to wake up extra early, so he could arrive at school way before anyone else, hoping he could spy on his own locker for intruders. Especially for pretty ones.

The first try wasn't successful. True, he managed to wake up as early as he had planned, and he found a good hiding spot in the corner between the wall and a locker-row. But all for nothing, since there was no one he could spot going near his shoe locker that morning. He didn't receive any letters that day, either, so at least he could rest assured that it wasn't him who missed something.

The next day, the blond boy was camping out in his little spying corner again, looking in the direction of his locker with tired eyes. He barely blinked them shut for a second (or at least he thought it was just a second) when he heard someone coming in for the first time that morning. He was shocked to see a green head of hair peeking in the front door, looking around, and then proceeding to dash in between the locker rows.

Sanji didn't know all that much about Zoro, but the boy's trouble with finding his way into classes was really hard to miss. And yet, there the Marimo was, among the earliest of early to be seen on the school grounds and to change his shoes. But wait, there was something wrong there, Sanji thought. That wasn't the grasshead's locker he was opening, it was...

"Hey, stop right there!" Sanji called through the empty hallway and jumped out of his hideout, startling Zoro so much that he all but fell against the shoe locker row behind his back.

"Wha... What are you...?" Zoro mumbled, still wide-eyed from that scare, but his face promptly formed a scowl, and he quickly hid his hands behind his back. "You scared me, damn you!"

"What the hell are you doing at my locker?" The blond demanded.

"N-nothing!" Zoro protested. "I thought it was mine."

Well, that wasn't something Sanji found hard to believe, but he wouldn't let Zoro off the hook that easily. Especially since he could see the boy trying to smuggle something away behind his back. Something white and out of paper...

"And what's that in your hand?" He shot him another question, and stepped closer to try peek behind the other's back.

"There's nothing in my hand," the green haired boy shook his head, though he awkwardly pushed his back against the locker row more.

"Show me," Sanji persisted and followed the other around, stepping with him as the other tried to turn away.

Zoro, however, would have none of it. He first tricked the blond with a fake step to the left, and then he quickly turned the other way, running between the adjacent row of lockers. Sanji ground his teeth and dashed after him, chasing the Marimo in zigzag among the rows. After a while of running, the pursuer had enough, and decided to hide at the end of a row, to wait until Zoro started looking for him instead. Sure enough, he managed to confuse the directionally challenged boy, who stopped abruptly when he couldn't hear any more steps approaching behind him. Though the blond had to wait a good while until the plant head finally came his way. Really, how on earth did he find his way to P.E. lessons in the other building...?

Just as Sanji thought of that, he finally saw Zoro's shadow nearing the end of the row where he was waiting. Then, when the young kendo apprentice finally came close enough, he jumped out of his hiding.

"Gimme that thing!"

Zoro, though, noticed him before he even leaped in front of him, and quickly turned around to run. Though the poor thing didn't make quite a big enough turn, and ran straight against one of the rows. After the impact, he doubled back and then fell onto his butt on the floor, rubbing at his dizzy green head.

"Owowow..."

Sanji snorted at the hilarious display, and used Zoro's self-knockout to snatch that object from his fingers.

"Gotcha!"

"Hey, give that back!" Zoro yelled, and reached for it as he tried to stand up.

He wasn't fast enough, though; Sanji already recognized what he was holding in his hands. It was a letter, in one of those small, white envelopes, addressed to him, with that little spiral in the corner.

After Zoro got up, both of the boys stood still for a moment; Sanji staring at the letter, and Zoro just looking at the blond's face, not being able to move.

"Um..." The green haired one tried to break the silence, but he was quickly cut off.

"This is..." Sanji just gaped at the envelope at first. But then, his thin little fingers curled around the edges as he shook with anger. "You! You tried to steal it, didn't you?" He glared at Zoro.

"What? No!" Zoro instinctively tired to yell louder than the blond, seemingly surprised and angry from the accusation.

"And you stole them from me a week ago, too, haven't you?" Sanji's face was red as he pointed his finger harshly at the other. "You stinking Marimo, give them back!"

"I haven't stolen your damn letters!" Zoro shook his clenched fists by his sides, his face also gaining a reddish color, the band aid on his cheek almost glowing.

"Then why did you have this?" The blond shook the crumpled envelope in his hand.

"Because I-!" Zoro started to retort, but he hastily cut off his sentence. He clasped his hands onto his mouth, and if possible, his face became an even darker crimson.

"Because you what?" Sanji raised a curly eyebrow, finding Zoro's behavior strange.

He put his hands onto his hips as he cocked his head to the side, staring at Zoro who still didn't speak. And then, a tiny grin appeared on the mini cook's face.

"Don't tell me... you wrote these?" He said as his grin grew even more mocking, and he laughed out loud at his own joke. "Haha, as if!" He clutched at his belly from laughter.

Zoro, though, instead of snapping at Sanji, looked like he even stopped breathing. He turned away, pressed his arms to his sides and gripped at the fabric of his uniform pants, as if he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Only much more red in the face.

Sanji's laughter died down at the sight, and he made a questioning face as he lowered his hands.

"Hey, Marimo... That's just a joke, right? Why would _you_ write me love letters, right?" Sanji tried to get himself to laugh, in hopes that Zoro would laugh too, and that it was really just a bad pun. "I mean... Only girls write love letters..."

"T-that's stupid!" Zoro shot back. "It doesn't matter if you're a boy or a girl as long as...! As long as...!" When he realized what he was saying, he turned away again, pursed his lips shut, and tried to keep them from quivering.

"So then..." Sanji gulped. "_You're_ my secret admirer...?"

"Just..." Zoro's voice was small, shaking, as if he was about to cry. Sanji had never seen him like that before; that vulnerable, and almost shy side he was showing him. For a moment, the blond thought him to be kind of cute that way, but he quickly chased that thought away with a small frown. "Just open it," the green-head finally said, his words just one big sigh.

Sanji glanced onto the envelope in his hand again, and with a shrug, he ripped it open, and pulled out the small letter from within. Upon unfolding the small paper, he was greeted with familiar letters, and a short message, as usual. Though, as he read the lines, he found that the letter was a slight bit different from the rest he had gotten.

"Dear Sanji-kun," Sanji read out loud, and Zoro made an 'eek'-like sound in shock, but the blond ignored him. "You were very good at the karate club last time. I wonder if we could... What? Spar together...?"

The blond lifted his eyes up from the paper with a curious expression. He still couldn't look Zoro in the face, though, since now the mosshead was gazing down at his feet intently. But the now revealed little admirer was quick to whip his head back up when Sanji started to chuckle. If it was another mocking laughter, he wouldn't have dared to look up again. However, the little laugh he heard sounded almost gentle, and when he dared to lay eyes on the blond soon-to-be chef, he was smiling. And there Zoro went, blushing again...

"Hey, Marimo," the blond spoke.

"What...?" Zoro muttered.

"Had breakfast yet?" Came the unexpected question, to which the boy with the band aid could only blink at first.

"No," he answered in the end, shaking his head a tad unsurely. "Not yet."

"Then, let's have some together," Sanji offered.

"Huh? What? Why?" Zoro stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Say," the blond crossed his arms over his chest and frowned a little. "Did you mean the stuff you wrote me all this time?"

Zoro was, yet again, unprepared for a change of topic like that, so he stiffened a little. Though at that point, there was no use denying anything anymore, and he was thoroughly riled up and confused, anyway, so he looked at Sanji sheepishly, and gave a small nod.

"Yeah..."

"Well, I barely know anything about you," Sanji said to that, still looking a little strict, which made Zoro turn his eyes away again. "So let's have breakfast together and get to know each other," the tiny cook continued, audibly smiling, and the green-haired boy felt his heart skip a beat.

"Um..." He at first just blinked at Sanji, but then he took a deep breath, and nodded his head again, much more livelier this time. "Un!" He smiled brightly, which he had no idea why, but made Sanji chuckle again.

"Good! Let's get changed, then, I'm hungry," the blond said, and then smirked at Zoro. "Should I show you your locker this time?"

"Shut up, I can find it on my own!" Zoro retorted, but not in his usual grumpy way. He was laughing, and grinning back.

After a few moments, and their shoes having switched places with the ones sleeping in the lockers, the two 9-year-olds were running again, laughing as they raced to the canteen, past the janitor who called after them to slow down.

"Ha-ha! Too slow, stupid Mayuge!"

"What was that? I'm gonna get you, shitty Marimo!"


	2. Winter Blossoms

**Chapter 2**

**Winter Blossoms**

.oOoOo.

Merry laughter, glasses clinking, holiday tunes seeping from behind brightly-lit windows and from under wreath-decorated doors... It was that time of the year that the high school held its annual Christmas celebration for the students: a fun little get-together before the winter holidays.

Inside the school's gym hall filled with students and some teachers, a group of youngsters were the loudest voices of the party. Two senior-year students, one enthusiastic fellow with bright blue hair and a tall friend of his with an afro were singing 'Jingle Bells Rock' on karaoke, and an obnoxious freshman cheered them on with two chicken drumsticks stuffed into his mouth, with quite some other students staring and afraid he might choke. A long-nosed classmate of the hungry kid was trying to impress his shorter friend wearing plastic deer antlers, as well as some other juniors, with some winter-themed tall tales, and a pretty red haired girl from junior year was discussing something giggle-worthy with her equally gorgeous friend from anthropology class.

All these voices and silhouettes in the window were familiar to the blond junior-year in a light blue coat, standing outside the gym hall and smoking a cigarette. Sanji promised the lovely Nami-swan and Robin-chwan (oh, and the other idiots, too) to come to the party, but truth be told, he wasn't really in a festive mood. After just an hour of trying to celebrate and have fun with his friends, he had felt as if he couldn't breathe among all the sappy Christmas songs and the laughing, and had to search for a retreat outside, in the only company of his beloved nicotine.

Sanji felt like he had nothing to celebrate. Ever since he had broken up with his girlfriend about a week before...

"Oi, what are you doing out here? Is your asshole frozen closed yet?"

Oh, he had almost forgotten. Zoro was there, too. Surprisingly so, since he never wound up on any of the school parties usually.

"I wish your damn trap would freeze shut, shitty Marimo," the blond cook-apprentice turned to shoot a glare at his green haired classmate, who was just stepping out of the gym and closed away the celebratory noises again as he shut the door behind him.

Really, the fucking bastard was one to talk. Zoro wore neither a hat nor a scarf, and his black coat was also unzipped, hanging over his silly reindeer-patterned green sweater. Sanji felt a cold shiver just by looking at him, and reached up to pull his white beanie and marine blue earmuffs tighter onto his head. Why did the mosshead always have to play strong, ever since elementary school? Well, not as if the blond cared if the stupid grass-for-brains got a cold, dressed like that...

"I'm not as dumb as you are to stand out here all night, Mayuge," Zoro snorted in retort. "And by the way, the guys were wondering where the hell you've gone to."

"I'm surprised they didn't come running out, too, after the tenth reprise of 'Jingle Bells Rock', metal-style..." Sanji chuckled around his cigarette, and he could see a small grin appearing on the green-head's face.

"Yeah, true that," Zoro nodded. "Though it's not as if the Gregorian version they did was any better... I only want to hear that kind of voice from Franky again if Robin decides to give his balls another rough treatment."

"Ah, Robin-chwan is so elegant and charming, even while ripping someone's balls off~" The blond sighed with delight, not looking like a perverted weirdo at all as he was hugging himself at the mentioning of the raven haired upper-class.

"At times I wish you would say crap like that after one or two shots of booze," his classmate let out a sigh, as well, but a much, much more tired one, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

"Shut up, shithead." Sanji's blissful face twisted into a sour scowl in a matter of milliseconds. "A moss-for-brains like you can't understand how divine my love for beautiful ladies is!"

"Yeah-yeah, whatever you say, shitty Mayuge," Zoro rolled his eyes. "So are you coming inside again or not?"

He wasn't sure why, but that question took Sanji by a slight surprise, the expression slowly withering from his visage. For these few minutes, the thought of what an asshole the Marimo filled Sanji's head so much that he had almost forgotten why he was feeling gloomy amidst all the partying. Zoro somehow never ceased to get under his skin to the extent that he lost his concentration.

He was an exceptionally irritating bastard. That was definitely the reason.

Sanji needed a few seconds to snap out of his thoughts before he could think of a reply, taking a drag from his smoke. He still felt nothing like going back inside to fake smiles and good mood, but standing outside, smoking his third cigarette while making his beautiful ladies worry was also not of much use.

"Actually..." He finally spoke, exhaling some of the white smoke into the cool winter air. "I think I'm gonna go home now. I feel kind of tired."

Zoro was doing that irritating thing he sometimes did: he didn't respond to the cook's words, just kept looking at him with his usual stern gaze, as if he was trying to read his soul through the pores of his skin or the fibers of his eyeballs. (Or, well, the one eyeball he could actually see from his hair.) That look always made the blond highly uncomfortable, since somewhere he feared that the plant-head could actually pull it off, by how he concentrated.

"Okay," was all his swordsmanship-practicing classmate said in the end, and just as suddenly as he uttered the word, he turned to open the gym hall's door, and stepped back inside the light and the joyful atmosphere.

As the door closed, Sanji found himself standing outside alone again. Of course, he was pissed that Zoro just up and left, but somewhere it seemed just like the damn shithead not to give a fuck and just go back to the others. He dropped the butt of his cigarette onto the half-icy pavement, and stepped on it with a huff. Fine, he decided, he wouldn't care then, either.

Just as Sanji was about to step away from the wall and head home, he heard the door click open again, and turned to find, to his surprise, Zoro stepping out into the night again. This time, he was wearing his black beanie to hide his green head, only to make up for the lack of color with a gray and green striped scarf, hanging out on top of his zipped-up coat.

"Forgot this," Zoro announced curtly, and threw Sanji's almost empty backpack towards him, in which the blond had brought along some gifts for their friends.

"Right... Thanks," he muttered, successfully catching the bag against his chest, and then quickly slipping his arms into its straps.

While Sanji was busying himself with taking up his bag, Zoro went to stand beside him, his own bag already hanging from his right shoulder.

"Ready to go?" He asked, which made Sanji look over at him in shock.

"What? You mean you're coming, too?"

"Told the guys you drank too much of the Christmas punch and I had to take you home," Zoro replied with a straight face.

"But that punch didn't even have any alcohol in it!" The cook protested.

"Well, this just shows that you suck at drinking so much that you get drunk from the aroma," Zoro shrugged, as if he was saying something with impeccable logic.

"I do not!" Sanji spat. "And I'll get home alone just fine, so fuck off, shithead!"

"See, you're talking like a real drunkard," the green-hair noted, making Sanji grit his teeth and glare at him, but he ignored all forms of protest and simply grabbed the blond by his arm and dragged him with him as he started to walk. "Come on, shitty tipsy cook."

"I'm not drunk, you fucking moss-balled alien mutant plant! Let me go!"

Sanji tried to pull his arm out of Zoro's grip and to stop the bastard from going any further, but that proved to be a bad idea, since the ice covering the part of the pavement he was standing on almost made him lose his footing. He cursed his boots; they looked good, but had no chance against slipping on ice. So he had no choice but to stumble after the Marimo, cussing at him and hitting him on his bicep, and cursing some more when he was pulled so hard that he once fell against Zoro's back.

"Okay, fine, I'm fucking coming along, okay?! Stop dragging me already, you damn asshole!"

The cook could see Zoro's grin from the corner of his eye, before the mosshead indeed released his arm, but only after one more little pull to make him stumble. For that, Sanji instinctively raised his leg to kick the fucking bastard in the ass, though the act turned into awkwardness as he slipped on a frozen puddle and had to grab a hold of his classmate's arm not to fall face-down.

"What, don't wanna let go after all?" Zoro teased him, and Sanji was quick to push the shithead away, sticking his hands into his coat-pockets and hiding his cheeks into his scarf.

"As if, you smelly fuckface..." He grumbled.

For a while, the two of them were walking in silence, with just a few cars and fewer people passing them by on the nightly street. Sanji walked close to Zoro, but only to try and avoid stepping on the iced-over edge of the pavement. He didn't dare walking as fast as he would have liked to, either, not feeling like giving the Marimo the satisfaction of seeing him land on his ass, so he had to remain one step behind.

Along the way, though, he asked – no, _demanded _– to switch places with Zoro, telling him that he should be the one stomping on ice in his big and ugly boots. The green-hair called him prissy, saying that it served him right for wearing 'girly boots', but after some punching around and insults flying in front of some shocked passersby, he finally agreed to change places.

"Are we even going in the right direction?" Sanji frowned as he looked around, before they crossed a road.

"Well, are we?" The Marimo shrugged.

"So you don't even know?!" Sanji turned to stare at his classmate.

"No, uh... I'm just not exactly sure." Zoro mumbled and shifted his eyes to the side, trying to keep a straight face.

Sanji let out an exasperated sigh. The Marimo had been directionally challenged ever since the blond could remember. Trust him to lead the way, and a half an hour walk home will surely take three hours _at least_.

"Yeah, right," the cook grumbled. "Next time bring a map when you offer to take someone home, shithead."

"Why don't you show the way, then? We're heading to your place, after all," Zoro offered, stubbornly hiding the fact that his sense of direction is worse than that of a potato peel.

"Sorry, can't do that!" Sanji exclaimed, spreading his arms theatrically, throwing a cheeky grin at his green haired classmate. "I'm drunk, remember?"

"Why you..." The swordsman growled, but the cook spoke on before he could think of saying more.

"See? This just shows that even a drunkard is less directionally challenged than you are!"

Sanji laughed out loud, all but giggling as he held onto his stomach. However, he was soon shocked out of his mirth by something quite cold and wet against his face.

A snowball. From Marimo with hate.

That prompted, first of all, a row of colorful curses from the blond's mouth. After that, the situation turned into a full-blown snowball fight out there on the streets, with them jumping around to dodge incoming snowballs (and slipping not once in the process), circling around cars to catch each other, and at the end, with them simply taking up armfuls of snow from beside the pavement to try and dump it onto the other's head and neck. And during the snowball fight, their curses and growls were gradually switched to laughter. Well, except for Sanji, who couldn't help but cuss like a sailor even while laughing loudly.

After several minutes of playing around, panting and soaking wet from all the snow, they tiredly agreed to call it quits for the time being. Just as they had decided on that and continued to walk another corner or so, they spotted a tiny stand, selling something delicious by the scent of it.

"Oh, hey, mulled wine!" Zoro clapped his hands together with a big grin. "Awesome. Let's get some."

"Are you an idiot?" Sanji raised a curly eyebrow at him. "We're underage. They'll never sell us any."

"We'll see about that. Come on!" And with that, the Marimo took the cook by the hand, and hurried over to the wine-stand.

Sanji was shocked when Zoro's hand grabbed his so suddenly. They had both taken their soaked gloves off, and against his own cold fingers, the green-head's hand felt warm.

The simple touch awoke memories; sweet-bitter and confusing ones. The two of them had been very close as kids, and Zoro had used to be obnoxious enough to take Sanji's hand ever so often, to drag him along with himself just like he was doing now. Hell, the mosshead even wrote him love letters in elementary school, but as they grew older, the cook thought that it had been just a childish game they shared for a while.

But although holding hands felt warmly nostalgic, it also made him feel embarrassed, his cheeks feeling just a little warmer. They weren't kids anymore. Besides, Zoro was a guy, and a shithead. And two guys weren't supposed to walk hand in hand, especially if one of them was a shithead, Sanji thought.

Though as he would have remembered to try and tear his hand away from Zoro's grip, his classmate did him the favor, as they were already in front of the mulled wine stand. The vendor was an old lady, dressed in a huge magenta winter coat and a big pink beanie covering her head down to her brows, with glasses as thick as the bottom of a soda bottle. She was writing some numbers in a small notebook with her red-mittened hands. There were two large metallic canisters next to her on top of the stand counter, filled with the wine she was selling.

"Good evening, baa-san," Zoro greeted her, but curiously enough, the lady did not respond.

"Is she frozen...?" Sanji wondered in horror.

"Once more," the green-hair murmured to himself, then shouted, "Good evening!"

"Oh!" The woman finally raised her head. "Good evening to you too, young man!" She cheered, smiling. "Would you be interested in some mulled wine?"

"Yeah, I'd like two cups full," Zoro nodded, then remembered to add, "Please."

"What was that? Sorry, my dear, I can't hear too well," the lady admitted, giggling.

"I said," the Marimo repeated, louder, "I would like to have two cups full, please!"

"Oh, of course, right away!"

The notebook rustled as the lady pushed the pen between its pages and crumpled it shut, then she leaned down below the counter to get two cups to put wine in. After she had already filled one of them with steaming and fragrant wine, the two boys on the outer side of the stand were beginning to look relieved. But when she was halfway with filling the second cup, she stopped abruptly, scaring them both a little:

"Oh, I almost forgot! You aren't underage, right?" She directed her heavily bespectacled eyes onto the two guys.

"Um..." Zoro gulped. "No, I'm not," he answered as calmly as he could.

"What?" The lady lifted her hand to her ear.

"I'm not!" Zoro yelled.

"Hmm..." The woman frowned. "Let me see some ID, please."

"We're _so_ going to get busted..." Sanji whispered, plastering his palm against his forehead.

"Cool it, I got this," Zoro assured, searching his wallet.

"What did you say?" Asked the half-deaf woman.

"I said I've got it! My ID!" The green haired high-schooler exclaimed for her to hear, pulling his ID out from his wallet. "Here you go!"

"Let me see now..." The lady took the plastic card and examined it, adjusting her thick glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Oh, you're already twenty-eight? You really don't look it, sonny."

"What is she talking about, you're in high scho–" Sanji gaped, but Zoro clasped his mouth shut with his hand.

"Yes, that's right! Thank you, I'm doing my best!" He answered instead. The woman seemed to be not only almost completely deaf, but just as blind. And there was wine at stake, so why not use it to his advantage?

"What the fu–" The cook tried to free his mouth from the mosshead's palm, but his voice was soon muffled again as Zoro held it tighter to his face.

"Well then, everything's fine and dandy!" The lady smiled and handed the ID card back to Zoro. "I'll fill your cups right away."

"Thank you!" The Marimo replied, taking the card, and when he heard that Sanji finally silenced himself, he lowered his hand again, letting the blond catch his breath. And curse at him. And kick him in the shin...

After both paper cups were full of the hot, seasoned wine, Zoro readily pulled the money out of his wallet to pay for it, even before Sanji had a chance to search for his own.

"I'm buying," he announced, his voice lowered so that the woman would definitely not hear.

"What? Fuck no!" Sanji glared at him. "I can buy my own goddamn wine."

"No," Zoro replied. "You're feeling like crap, and I didn't bring you a present today, so this is my treat."

"But...!"

By then, the Marimo had already pushed the sufficient amount of Yen into the lady's hands, and was handed the cups in turn, one of which he immediately stretched out for the blond to take. So Sanji could just grumble and take the cup from the damn bastard.

"Thanks..." He mumbled, pretending that his cheeks were only warmer because of the steam rising from his cup of wine.

Usually, it was him spoiling others. Sanji had, for example, cooked often for his friends, and always offered them his support whenever they needed it, no matter what the issue was. It was rather strange to be the one being treated for once, but despite all his protests, the cook thought it to be a nice kind of strange. Even if it was just the stupid Marimo buying him some mulled wine.

And he was doing it to cheer Sanji up. It seemed off. Zoro had noticed that he was feeling down, even though he tried to hide it. The others might have told him that he had broken up with his girlfriend, but the cook thought he was masking his sorrow well. And he sure didn't think the Marimo would have remembered, nor cared. He was never much for talking about girls, and definitely not for showing people compassion and giving comfort. Yet it was still him trying to make him feel better...

"You have a pretty girlfriend," the wine-seller woman said suddenly, giggling.

"Girlfr– What?" Sanji looked at the old lady wide-eyed, since her words coincided creepily with his own thoughts. But he almost broke his cup when he realized what she could have meant. "Whaaaat?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! She's not your date?" The lady frowned and glanced at her green haired customer.

"Um..." Zoro couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion. "Yeah, thanks!"

"Huh?! Hey, don't thank h–"

"Goodbye, baa-san!" Zoro called, and grinning big, he took Sanji's hand again, before he started walking. "Let's go, _girlfriend_."

"But... But I... What... the... " Sanji was too much in shock to say anything coherent, and he let himself get pulled along by the Marimo like a ragdoll.

Someone just thought he was a girl. Him, a girl! And what's worse, Zoro's girlfriend, to boot! He will have nightmares...

"Hey, careful, it's spilling!" The green-head reminded him, quickly letting go of his hand to take a hold of Sanji's cup instead, which was tipping a tad in the cook's loose hold.

But as his hand touched Sanji's fingers circled around the cup, the blond suddenly turned to first just glance at him in surprise, then snarl at him, his face flushing red:

"You goddamn piece of shit, you'll regret this!" He growled at Zoro, and with a kick and a dodge, then another kick and a punch, they were fighting again, with not many more people on the streets to watch them skid along the ice and snow.

After both Zoro and Sanji had managed to fall on their asses at least once, and spill out at least a quarter of their mulled wine, they somehow stopped bickering, to actually be able to drink what was left. A couple more minutes passed with the two high-schoolers (or maybe just Sanji, really) searching for the right path, until finally the blond could recognize the street he lived in.

Sanji smiled to himself as he threw out the paper cup into a nearby trashbin. He remembered that Zoro had often walked him home before, when they had been younger. Even if he actually only made getting home harder, by how many times he got lost... He had even used to stay over and play, and his guardian had always come to pick him up in the evening, but often only in the morning, even.

But it had been years since the Marimo had come by last, maybe around the time they had been about to finish junior high school, the cook recalled. Somehow, getting into their teens had put them apart greatly. Right then, walking on the street with Zoro for the first time in years, the thought made Sanji sad.

He couldn't put his finger on why that happened. Sure, Zoro had grown taller, just like Sanji did, with his face more angular, his voice deeper and his eyes more stern. He still didn't talk much, and he was an even bigger asshole than he had been at the age of 13, the cook swore to it. What's more, it was even harder to figure out what kind of thoughts were swimming through that mossy puddle that was Zoro's brain most of the time.

And yes, the both of them talked way less to one another, and when they did, they always ended up fighting. Then again, this might have sounded peculiar for others to hear, but for them, it had always been rather normal.

And on a sudden thought, Sanji realized that he had laughed more on this one walk home than he did in the past week. Zoro was still a stupid shithead, but the blond knew him well enough to remember that he could be nice when he wanted to.

He offered his hand when Sanji had slipped on the ice (which the blond, of course, was only willing to accept after about the fifth time his ass slammed against the floor). He bought him mulled wine, saying it had been to cheer him up, and he had gotten himself into trouble for getting it (actually, he had gotten them both in trouble, but that was beside the point). And whether the mosshead consciously realized or not, he took Sanji's mind off the burdening thoughts that had made his chest so heavy he hadn't been able to breathe while at the party...

No, Zoro hardly changed at all during the years. Maybe it was Sanji himself who had become much more different...

"What are you starin' at?"

Sanji was snapped out of his musings by a confused scowl on Zoro's face. He had been looking at him the whole time? Oh, just great. That night couldn't have gotten any more awkward...

"Oh, uh, nothing," he found his voice again, then looked around in search of something to avert the topic. Luckily, they arrived in front of Sanji's place just then. "Oh, look, we're here."

"Yeah," the Marimo answered, glancing at the two-storied building, the first floor of which, he remembered, Sanji and his old man were living on.

"Well, um..." The cook spoke after some seconds of silence. "Thanks for walking me home, I guess. Even though I didn't as for it..." He added the last part out of his own stubbornness.

"You're welcome," Zoro nodded to him, and found it in him to add, "Drunk Mayuge."

"Shut up already, shitty lost Marimo," Sanji mumbled as he reached up to grab the edges of Zoro's hat, to pull it down over his face.

The green-head's words were muffled by the beanie, but he sure as hell was cursing, and struggled to get the fabric off his face, the grumpy expression he revealed from beneath it making Sanji laugh and point a finger at him. They might have both been just that tired, but they ended up laughing at each other's laughter for a minute or so, in front of the house.

When their breaths had finally calmed down, Zoro lifted his hand to wave goodbye and was already turning to walk away, but Sanji's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait a sec," the cook sputtered, looking quite as surprised at himself as his classmate did. "I um... I wanna give you something."

"What is it?" Zoro asked bluntly.

"A present," Sanji answered. "I didn't give you any at the party, either, so..."

"It's fine," the green-hair shrugged.

"Just shut up and come with me!"

The blond's nervousness has gotten the better of him, and this time, he was the one grabbing Zoro by the wrist and pulling him towards the door. The Marimo followed after but one stumble, and didn't protest, so when they were walking up the single row of stairs side-by-side, Sanji already let go of his hand.

"Wait here," the cook ordered strictly when they have reached the door on the hallway, pointing to the floor with his index finger where the mosshead was standing.

"Yeah-yeah," Zoro grumbled, and watched as Sanji quickly turned the key in the lock, then disappeared for a moment behind the closing door.

Since the blond didn't need much time to return, the entrance door flipped open soon, and a package was pushed against the Marimo's chest rather roughly, with the green-head reaching for it instinctively, not to let it fall.

"Here, take this," the cook said, countering Zoro's eyes for a while, but then he directed his gaze onto the floor. "Merry Christmas."

After Sanji let go of it, Zoro raised the package up higher to take a look at it. Inside the neat, snowflake-patterned transparent wrapping, at least two dozens of gingerbread men were smiling at him with sweet frosting-mouths, with white and pink candy buttons decorating them. The package was tied closed with a soft pink ribbon, and a small golden bell was fastened onto the knot. It didn't really look like a present you would give to your male classmate...

"Stop making that face, will you?" Sanji complained, crossing his arms over his chest. "Give it back if you don't like it."

"Nah, I like it," Zoro shook his head, and moved to pull the ribbon loose, the little bell giving a chime and the sweet scent of gingerbread wafting up from within the package. He reached inside with two fingers to pull out one of the cookies, and he cruelly bit the bread-man into half, with Sanji shuddering as he watched him devour the remaining half. "Mm, they're good," he hummed with a small smile, and of course only swallowing after speaking. "Thanks."

"You're welcome..." The blond couldn't help but smile back upon seeing Zoro's expression, but as silence fell between them again, his eyes grew a little sad. "These..." He spoke in a quiet voice. "These weren't meant for you, because I didn't know you would come to the party. I would have used wasabi if they were," he rambled. "All the pink is because I wanted to give..."

But Sanji didn't have a chance to speak more. He didn't have time to breathe. No, those calloused and slightly cold fingers tugging on his neck and hair silenced his voice, and Zoro's lips suddenly pressing against his own made his breath hitch in his throat. He didn't even have time, nor the consciousness to react; the kiss only lasted for a few seconds. The only thing his body found the time for was to paint his cheeks bright pink.

Their lips parted again, and Zoro was looking into Sanji's eyes, his hand still lingering on his neck. The blond couldn't do anything but stare back, and he opened his mouth and closed it again a couple of times, the words stuck in his head and in his throat.

"Why..." He finally said, shivering. "Why did you...?"

"You know why I kissed you, I've told you before," the Marimo answered sternly, almost looking as if he was angry. "I've even kissed you before, idiot."

"But we were, like, ten years old! That doesn't count!" Sanji raised his tone of voice in protest, beet-red. "Now get out of my face!" And with that, he grabbed the green-hair's shoulders to push him away.

"It _does_ count!" Zoro was yelling now, too, grabbing the cook's wrists to get them to let go of his coat. "I said I liked you and I meant it!" His voice must have shocked the cook, because he could lift his wrists off his own shoulders, but he held onto them, squeezing. "Us being ten or seventeen or twenty-eight doesn't change things!"

The green haired high-schooler had nothing more to say, so he just kept staring at his blond classmate, who had retreated back against the door in shock. When Zoro saw the look in that blue eye peeking out from under blond bangs, a mix of fright and sorrow, he felt like a knot was forming in his throat, suffocating him. Slowly, he let go of the blond, releasing his wrists from his hold.

"Damn bastard..." Sanji sneered at him after a little while, his words quivering just like his lips as he forced a smile onto his face. "You picked a fucking rotten time for your shitty confession..."

He tried to keep it together. He clenched his fists and tried to breathe evenly, and not to let his knees buckle under. But Sanji just couldn't take it anymore; no more sadness, no more frustration, no more confusion. His emotional capacity was filled to the brim, and tried as he might have, he couldn't stop it from flowing over. His inner sea was rushing out of the corners of his eyes, and was flowing down his reddened cheeks.

Zoro's chest became heavy as he saw the cook trying to hide his tears under his hair, and then with his palms. He clenched and unclenched his hands, the wrapping of his present squeaking in his grip, until he finally worked up the courage to lift his arms up towards the other, but the blond roughly pushed his palms against his chest.

"Don't fucking touch me...!" He croaked, his voice breaking. "Don't..."

The green-head's hands stopped in mid-air, as he could just look at his sobbing childhood friend in front of him. However, soon Sanji's arms began to tremble and lose their strength, which lead to him flopping face-first against Zoro's chest, his knuckles turning white from the way he was clutching his black coat. Only then did the Marimo dare to move again, wrapping his arms around the cook. He held him for several minutes, on the abandoned hallway, rubbing his back carefully to try and help him calm down.

When Sanji could finally gather himself somewhat, he pushed himself off Zoro's chest and sniffled, rubbing his blood-shot eyes. With some snot hanging from his nose, his blond hair all messy and his beanie awry on his head, the damn grasshead bastard found it in himself to chuckle.

"Need a handkerchief?"

"Shut the hell up, you asshole," Sanji shot back. That was a sign that he might have been feeling better now. Though, after he searched through his pockets and found nothing to wipe his nose with, he still had to accept the handkerchief Zoro was offering him. "Thanks... And fuck you..." He spat, before blowing his nose.

"You're welcome," the green-hair merely answered. "Thanks for the gift," he added, raising the packet full of gingerbread, ready to leave.

"Hope you aren't gonna get lost on your way home, stupid Marimo." The cook's words had bite, but curiously enough, there was just a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Yes, their bickering could always make him feel better... "But just to be safe, I think I'd better stay up another two hours in case I need to give a lost child directions through the phone." And now, he was grinning.

"You mean you want me to call you and say good-night?" Zoro snorted and reciprocated the grin, raising one of his pointy eyebrows in mischief.

"As if, you bastard!" The blond stomped and tried to be angry, but instead he started laughing, the sound ringing in the empty hallway, Zoro's laughter soon joining it.

He couldn't help it. All the stress and the release it gained through crying made him light-headed...

"Say, Marimo..." Sanji spoke again, in a smaller voice.

"What now?" Perfect timing, too, since Zoro was just about to start walking towards the stairs.

"I don't... really feel like staying up two more hours, after all," the blond stated, and the color of his cheeks might or might not have been pink because he was feeling warm indoors. "And my old man's only coming back tomorrow, and since you're already here... I don't know. Wanna stay over? Like you used to...?"

He was already mumbling at the end, and in his nervousness, he was playing with his lighter and cigarette box in his pockets. He could barely look at Zoro while he made his foolish request, especially since the damn Marimo gave him that strong, scrutinizing gaze that made him even more embarrassed.

Though, what Sanji couldn't foresee was that happy smile Zoro had flashed him as he replied. And how his heart made a jump in his chest as he saw it...

"Sure, why not? Sounds good."


End file.
